


A Moment In Time

by Otonymous



Category: MLQC: Fandom, Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice (Video Game), love and producer
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Swimming Pools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otonymous/pseuds/Otonymous
Summary: Things get wet and wild with Victor.





	A Moment In Time

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Spoilers for the “Rooftop Date” with Victor, very mild spoilers for main plot
> 
> I got a couple of requests on Tumblr for something spicy with Victor, and someone specifically requested a story inspired by a karma card depicting MC and Victor making out in a pool (please check out my Tumblr account to see the pic @ https://otonymous.tumblr.com/), so I decided to amalgamate that scene along with one of the production scenarios and his “Rooftop Date.” The lines marked with an asterisk were taken directly from the date. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it and happy reading!

_“I miss you…”_ *

_God, I must be drunk_ , you think to yourself, trying to suppress the sick lurch of your stomach. No doubt you’ve had too much to drink if you’re hearing Victor’s voice in your head, an echo of the phone call he made to you at an ungodly hour that very morning.

Despite your brain fog, you vaguely recall him mentioning something about France before the line went dead, shortly after you informed him he had dialled the wrong number. The memory of the affection in his fatigued voice brought a rush of heat to your cheeks, but you chalked it up solely to the alcohol in your veins.

Carefully stepping around the pool on the roof of the building and moving beyond eyeshot of patrons in the adjacent restaurant, you lean against the ledge, looking out over the twinkling lights of a city too bright to sleep, the breeze blowing off the river below caressing your face.

And somewhere in those neon pinks, yellows and greens, you see Victor’s face: the firm set of his masculine jaw, strong brows furrowed in displeasure...his eyes, cool and assessing, as he tut-tutted at your inability to hold your alcohol.

“Yup. That’s exactly the type of face he’d make,” you say, the night wind spiriting your words away as soon as they leave your lips.

You hoped you didn’t make a complete ass of yourself in front of all those telecommunications CEOs Victor invited you to dine with. But in all honesty, everything after your second shot of Moutai was a blur. That was the one thing you could never get used to in this industry: the hard drinking culture that came part and parcel with sealing business deals.

And as you sat there watching these ruddy-faced men throw back the alcohol like it was water, the respect you already had in spades for your father deepened. How many nights did he spend entertaining those so-called VIPs, his liver and gut paying the price in securing funding for the company? The thought that you could never thank him again for all the sacrifices he made for your family stung like smoke in your eyes.

_And what of Victor, who made up some excuse or another to intercept most of the shots that came your way?_

You shake your head, chasing the thought away. Victor is a big boy. He can handle himself. He’d just scoff at your concern if he ever learned about it.

So with your mood sunk low by the dull ache of longing for your father and the prospect of a horrible morning hangover, you excused yourself and left Victor behind with the group of middle-aged men, expressly ignoring the look he shot you as you exited the private room of the Michelin-starred restaurant.

You preferred the food at Souvenir anyways.

“How long are you planning to stand there like an idiot? Everyone has already left and you’ve blown a perfect opportunity to forge business connections.”

The sudden appearance of Victor’s voice — this time, outside your head — makes you jump, his sharp tone grating against the headache already forming at your temples. And while you were grateful for his help, tonight was not one of those times when you could stomach his delivery. To your dismay, he was only getting started.

“You really don’t care about the future of your comp-“

“I’m sorry, Victor. You’re completely right. I shouldn’t have excused myself like that. Could you please, just…leave me in peace tonight?”

Sighing, you turn to face him, seeing Victor for what seemed like the very first time tonight: backlit by wavering aquamarine waters, the ethereal glow softened his features, and even you had to admit he was incredibly handsome when his face wasn’t pulled into a frown.

Tall and broad, his white dress shirt lay crisp against a beautifully toned chest, and the entirety of the man exuded an aura of power, wealth, and the determination to have the world in the palm of his capable hand.

Despite all this, the only thing you could focus on was the tenderness that suffused his gaze as his eyes met your own.

_“I miss you…”*_

In the ensuing silence, Victor’s voice, travelling thousands of miles to whisper in your ear with a single phone call, came back to haunt you at the worst possible time.

_Don’t look at me like that._

Throat growing uncomfortably tight, you tug on the satin collar of your red dress — the motion recalling the time Victor had hurriedly readjusted his tie after Chik left his office. But not before the up-and-coming actress had given you a cold once-over.

For all that she was unpleasant however, she was also gorgeous. And standing next to Victor, they looked like they belonged together.

_Please don’t look at me like that, not when I’m not the one in your heart._

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Or the fatigue of working endless days and nights, trying to keep your father’s legacy afloat. Whatever it was, the memory irritated you, and you wanted nothing more than to be as far away as possible from Victor and his unsettling gaze.

“I’ll have the progress report ready for you on Thursday. Thanks again for dinner.”

Bidding Victor goodnight, you brace yourself against your wobbly knees, stepping around him in stilettos you weren’t used to walking in as you made for the restaurant’s entrance.

But then he reaches for your wrist, holding you in place - the grip comfortable despite being firm.

“You got a call this morning, didn’t you?”*

His voice is low and gentle, so contrary to the imperious way by which he usually addressed you. And as the heat of his touch penetrated the delicate skin of your wrist, you guessed that he must be inebriated, conveniently ignoring the signs that indicated otherwise.

“What did you hear?”* The LFG CEO pressed on, the strength of his grip not abating.

“Just a few simple sentences. I won’t blab to anyone…”*

Victor’s lips fall open, neither confirming nor denying as uncertainty danced across his face. So sure in the way he carried himself professionally, his vacillation now enraged you for reasons you could not comprehend. And before you could stop yourself, the words spill from a tongue loosened by alcohol.

“Why don’t you go visit her if you miss her so much?”*

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continue, masochistically twisting the blade embedded so deeply in your heart you liked to pretend it didn’t exist.

“As long as the two of you are in love, nothing can get in the way of that. She…I think she must be a beautiful and gentle person…”*

Blinking, you push back the sting behind your eyelids, ignoring it like you ignored the despondency you felt every time rumours of Victor’s supposed significant other splashed across headlines of media outlets everywhere.

“You talk too much.”*

Gone is Victor's hushed tone, replaced by the simmer of an indignant anger that threatened to boil over. Reflexively, you step backwards as Victor closes in on you. And as the ground disappears beneath your feet, the last thing you see before falling into the pool is the panic in his eyes.

The chlorine burned as it travelled up your nose, adding to the fear that gripped you when you realized that, even in stilettos, you couldn’t touch the bottom of the pool. Desperately trying to surface, you cursed your inability to swim as you fought against the wet drag of your clothes, your frenzied movements carrying you farther and farther away from the edge of the pool.

All of a sudden, the waters around you violently displace as strong arms wrap around your waist, guiding you to safety.

And with that first breath of air filling your lungs, you are struck by such intense nostalgia you cannot help but look around, surprised to find yourself in a rooftop pool instead of a sunshower in the middle of a busy street, the car that would’ve careened into you already speeding off into the distance.

The only thing that hasn’t changed is the sensation of being held tightly in the arms of a man who always arrived in the nick of time: Victor.

He moves you onto the ledge of the pool, and it isn’t until your coughing subsides that you realize everything seems strangely still. The flashing lights that cascade along the length of a nearby tower like falling dominoes had frozen in place. Turning towards the restaurant, you see diners through the floor-to-ceiling windows, utensils raised in mid-air en route to open mouths like some comical tableau. Finally, you look down to see Victor still half-submerged in the pool, head resting on your thighs while his heaving chest gradually slowed.

The glint of his vintage Patek Philippe wristwatch catches your eye.

“You…you stopped time?”

He raises his head, fixing you with an incredulous stare.

“That’s the first thing you think to say after I just saved your life again?”

Snappy retort not forthcoming, you focus instead on the way he combed a large hand through wet strands of jet black hair, unable to tear away from the sight of a water droplet running down the bridge of his nose to rest at the cupid’s bow of his lips.

And suddenly, you burned hot despite the damp clothing laying cool against your skin.

“Or perhaps you’re fine with everyone seeing you the way you are now?”

Of course. Victor was right, as always. Your up-do had completely disintegrated and wet satin clung to your body, outlining every curve in a way that left little to the imagination. And although his tone had been sharp, you were touched to find him attentive to such a detail.

“Wait here and don’t move,” he says, starting to swim towards the pool ladder. But before you can even process your actions, you’ve already grasped his arm, feeling the impressive flex of his bicep under your grip.

“Why did you get angry?”

You did not know where this bravado had come from, for your impromptu dip in the water had an immediately sobering effect. But the surprise that flashed across his face was strangely satisfying, goading you on.

“Did I touch a nerve earlier?”

Victor drops his gaze, seeming to contemplate the question. And although time had stopped, you grew more and more impatient as you awaited his response.

“You tried to encourage me when you thought I was courting another woman.”*

Accusatory. Hostile even. His voice was every bit what you had come to expect from Victor. But the hurt in his eyes was a surprise that filled you with regret, sinking to the pit of your stomach like a stone.

But perhaps it was a diamond in the rough — a glimmer of hope hiding behind the meaning of his words. And if it was, did you have the courage to reach out and touch it?

As intuitive as Victor’s business acumen was, perhaps he had already seen through you, for his lips were on yours before you could even react, water spilling onto the ledge as he hoisted himself onto your body, arms encircling you for the second time that night.

The alcohol on his breath. The scratch of his five-o’clock shadow. The softness of lips that were as endearing as rare when curled up into a secret smile. Victor’s kiss was so intoxicating you desperately searched for signs you weren’t slumped over your desk at work, dreaming in fitful sleep.

But the insistent press of his body against yours told you this was real. And the way you melted in his embrace brought with it the realization that even if you were dreaming, you did not wish to wake.

His tongue drawing slow circles about your own, your world slowly tilted under Victor’s control until all that filled your vision were the striking features of his face amidst the backdrop of an ebony sky. By then, you were already caught between wet ground and the subtle grind of his pelvis against your core.

Slightly breathless, Victor pulls back to study you with naked intensity before bringing your palm to rest against his solid chest. And as his large hand covers yours, the racing heart beneath it beats electric through the fabric of his now-transparent shirt.

“When will you finally get it?”*

The plea in his voice sounds so foreign for having come from his lips, and when his question is met with silence, he continues,

“Dim-witted as you are, let me spell it out for you.”

Free hand reaching for the knot of his tie, Victor removes it with a single yank.

“So there’s no room for misunderstanding.”

Thumb and forefinger deftly undo the top button of his shirt before sliding to the next in line.

“I would never go near another woman…”*

Smooth skin pulled taut over muscle and sinew, more and more of his bared torso gradually comes into view.

“…when all I want is you.”*

Hands finally dropping to his sides, Victor pauses, exposed and patiently awaiting your response. And although you weren’t sure if your pulse throbbed in time to his heartbeat or your own, nothing felt more certain than the compulsion that made you fist your hand around his loosened collar, pulling him down to quench the desire raging through your body.

Surreal, like a scene from a movie, you watched your reflection off the glass panes of the restaurant’s windows, putting on a show for the unwitting patrons within as Victor bent to run his tongue along the column of your neck. And when you gasp to feel him sucking at the tender flesh, he intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing as he rejoiced in the thrill of marking you for the world to see.

“Mmm, Victor!”

You barely suppress a moan as he kisses down your bare legs, stopping just as he reaches your ankles. Looking up, he taps his watch and says,

“Scream as loudly as you want, no one can hear you. No one…besides me, that is.”

The subtle flush on his cheeks made him even more alluring as he unbuckled the delicate straps of your heels, gently sliding them off before pressing kisses to the sensitive arch of your feet.

And caught up in the eroticism of the moment, you’re barely cognizant of the path the hem of your dress has travelled until it’s resting around your hips, Victor’s gaze falling on the promise beckoning in the space between your legs. His eyes darken with a primal hunger, bottom lip disappearing behind the bite of even, white teeth.

Exacting. Arrogant. Ruthless. You had thought all these things of Victor when he first announced Loveland Financial Group was pulling funding for your company. Never in a million years did you imagine you’d have the CEO between your legs, cheek rubbing against the lace panties looped around your thigh like a bridal garter as he made you tremble with every flick of his talented tongue against your clit.  
  
And when your back arched to feel the sure slide of his long fingers deep into your pussy, the wonder in his gaze makes you think that this was something he, too, never anticipated.

But life has a funny way of bringing people together, and there was no denying how right it felt to have Victor penetrate you to the hilt, dropping tender kisses at the corners of your lips as he rode out the undulating flutters of you clenching tightly around his sizeable cock.

“You feel…so good….”

He whispers in your ear, the warm pants of his exertion incendiary against your skin.

“Would it be okay if I didn’t hold back?”

Eyes dark with desire search you, their corners crinkling as he breaks into a smile as natural as it is breathtaking when you nod. And when you almost think to point out that he really is quite handsome with a grin on his face, Victor takes the words from your mouth when he wraps your legs around his waist, saying,

“Hold on tight.”

You had always guessed that Victor had no shortage of muscle beneath those bespoke suits, but your suspicions were now confirmed with the effortless way he bounced you in mid-air, your arms looped tightly around his neck to anchor yourself against the incredible depths he was reaching within you.

And just when you bordered on the verge of exhilarated breathlessness, Victor’s release finds your own, the warmth he leaves behind slowly trickling down the inside of your thigh as he pulls out.

 

* * *

 

“W-what happened to the two of-”

“Goldman, get the car.”

The LFG CEO’s stern command was more than enough to send his assistant scrambling to obey, dropping any further questions as to why the two of you looked like drowned rats.

Drawing the lapel of Victor’s suit jacket closer over your chest, the spicy notes of his cologne recalled the way it smelled on the skin of his neck, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance his way.

But Victor already had his eyes trained in your direction, ignoring the scandalized stares of diners in the vicinity as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, seemingly amused by your attempt to draw back.

“V-Victor! What if rumours start flying about you?” You hiss under your breath, turning away so he couldn’t see you blush.

“So what? It’s not like the rumours are unfounded in this case. You have to stop worrying about what others think. The only opinion that matters is mine.”

You whirl around, incredulous, only to find yourself in his arms again — the world falling silent once more as Victor steals another moment in time, his kiss stretching an instant into an eternity of bliss.


End file.
